


What Calls To You

by Bam4Me



Series: 'I want that.' 'The boat?' 'No, the ocean.' [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ned Lives, Gen, I made the Knight's Watch brothers into Jon's crew, Jon finds out, Pirate Jon, Pirates, R plus L equals J, Sam doesnt get sea sick, Unrealistically sized ships for that time period, Well more like smuggling, but fuck it i know that the ship size is actually really important to later fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 02:49:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10527276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bam4Me/pseuds/Bam4Me
Summary: Jon knew he should visit home more often, but why visit Winterfell when the water was his true place.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ..........................................................................................
> 
> littlesforfandom.tumblr.com

“You cheat! You always cheat!”

 

Jon sighed, lowering his sword while he listened to the other shipmates gathered around them snickering, apparently, enjoying the show. “I do not cheat, Grenn, how could I cheat at sword fighting?”

 

Grenn grunted, shaking his stinging hand out. “I don’t know, but you do.”

 

Sam, sitting behind Jon with one of his precious books in hand, snorted. “Grenn, I think you’re forgetting this is a pirate ship again, what reason would Jon have to fight fair anyways?”

 

Grenn seemed to honestly think about that. “Well… pirates do have a lot of dirty tricks up their sleeves.”

 

Jon sighed again, they’ve been over this. “First off, I didn’t cheat, you just stand too still, Grenn, it makes you easy to take down. Second, please do not call ourselves pirates while we’re still in bay. As much as I know we are, my father is _still_ the warden of the North and I want to be able to visit him one last time before we leave port without getting put to the executioner's block, thanks.”

 

Sam frowned, not exactly finding any humor in Jon’s dark joke, but Jon forgets, that the threat of execution from your own father is something he’s dealt with before. “Do you really think he would kill you for that? He’s the one that let you stay with pirates in the first place.”

 

Jon shook his head. “Well, technically, he allowed his son to stay with another prominent noble family and didn’t actually expect me to end up liking it enough to join them, but plausible deniability and all that. I don’t think my father would kill me, but if he found out I was something other than, let’s say, a merchant, which is what you should all say if anyone were to ask, then he might not let me come home till I stopped.”

 

Pyp snorted. He was sitting on the mast with Edd, looking a little bored. “Some _pirate_ you are. The only reason you even got the lot of us in the first place is because you have a no rape and pillage rule. We’re glorified smugglers, admit it.”

 

Jon nodded. “We are smugglers, stick with that, and if anyone else asks, we’re merchants. We _do_ sell things, anyways.”

 

Sam nodded, looking mullified. “Of course. You’ll be going home to see them before we set sail again, right?”

 

Jon nodded, before seeing some confused looks on the new recruits faces. “Well, yes, it’s been six years since I last saw my family, they were hoping I could visit them before we make our first real voyage. I told them I would.”

 

The others nodded at him, glad he wasn’t deciding to abandon them before they could even leave, at least.

 

***

 

It’s not like Jon hasn’t been on a horse since getting to the Iron Islands, and he’s been to other countries and places often enough that learning how to ride was important, but this mare was the angriest mare Jon has ever ridden for some reason, and by the time he’s in sight’s of Winterfell, he has half a mind to get off her and walk the rest of the way.

 

In fact, he would have if someone hadn’t been waiting for him.

 

“You look like you’re having some trouble with your horse, brother.”

 

Jon looked up from his frustrating -and frustrated- mare with an unexpected smile, grinning at the sight of both Robb and Theon waiting for him. Theon had a little smirk of his own, apparently smug that he could ride a horse better than the boy his father had replaced him with. Well, if only Theon knew how little Jon has talked to Balon since getting to the Iron Islands…

 

“I haven’t a clue what’s wrong with her, this is the _angriest_ mount I’ve ever had in my life.”

 

And now they were both laughing at him. This was a great way to be greeted home after six years of being gone.

 

***

 

Catelyn seemed to be one of the only ones in Winterfell not happy to see him. Rickon had absolutely no idea who he was from anything other than what his siblings have told him, and Bran barely remembers him at all. Arya seemed to recognize him, and even smiled at him, but made no move to do anything else.

 

“I think this is the most awkward feast I’ve been to since I got here.”

 

Jon looked up at Theon -who had been abandoned to the lower tables at the feast like Jon always was, not allowed to sit with the rest of the Starks- and cocked his head to the side, watching him for a moment before looking back to where Ned was sitting awkwardly next to Catelyn, who was attempting to make small talk with the queen. He hadn’t realized his visit would fall at the same time as the king’s visit.

 

He looked back to Theon with a sigh, and took another swig of the biter beer there was at the feast. It wasn’t like rum, which had been the first alcohol Jon had ever drank, when he and Asha had gotten bored one night and broken into her older brother’s store room.

 

Without even realizing it, he’d grown more used to the sea, than the land.

 

“I think they’re just upset because we all know the king will ask Father to go to King’s Landing to be his new Hand.”

 

Theon nodded with his own little sigh, already halfway to sloshed on the beer that Jon was having a hard time choking down. “Yeah, but I guess you won’t care much about that, going off to fight at sea and pillage for the Iron Islands.”

 

Strangely, Theon didn’t sound bitter in the slightest. Jon shook his head. “I’m not a pillager, I’m a smuggler… but if anyone asks, I’m a merchant.”

 

Theon snorted, but nodded at him, making Jon roll his eyes.

 

***

 

Finally getting a chance to sit down and talk with his father, was both nerve wracking and calming. Calming, because he had _missed_ him, and he knew this visit might be the last time he sees him for a long while, but nerve wracking, because Ned Stark looked like he had something he needed to talk to Jon about, and that itself was strange, for his father to look nervous about talking to one of his own children.

 

“You look a fright, Jon, settle down, I’m not here to scold you for anything.”

 

Jon visibly relaxed his shoulder, sitting in front of his father’s desk while Ned quickly finished up reading a paper before setting it aside, and giving Jon a smile. Jon smiled back.

 

“You look like you have something important to tell me.”

 

Ned’s smile fell, still there, but looking a little pained now, like he was remembering something tense. “You’re right, I do have something to tell you, something I should have told you long ago before you left in fact. But, before we get to that, tell me about this new ship you’ve had commissioned.”

 

As he thought it would, that got a brilliant smile on Jon’s face, looking enamoured. Ned wondered if Jon would ever look that enamoured with someone else, and not just a ship. “Oh, she’s a beauty, Da. I had her commissioned with what I’ve earned,” a loose term, “while sailing under Theon’s older brothers, as well as some of the gold you’ve sent that I didn’t get around to spending, and boy was she a pretty penny. Balon said something about how normally, his men are more… involved with the creation of the ship, but I needed this to be specific and the Iron Islands just didn’t have the timber or manpower to get what I needed in it.”

 

Ned frowned, not having heard that one in Jon’s letters. “Your ship isn’t in the Iron Islands?”

 

Jon paused, before shaking his head. “I… I needed her to be ready for me on the other side of the crossing. Of course, I could have sailed around the bend, but it takes months, nearly half a year to get all the way around to the other side, I thought it would be easiest to dock on the other side of the port and travel a short distance to get there. It takes less than two weeks this way, saves a lot of time.”

 

“So that’s why you had to pay such a high commission, to have it built somewhere else?”

 

Jon nodded. “Uh huh, plus the size. It’s got a twelve men minimum crew size, and that’s at a bare.”

 

Ned seemed shocked, sitting back in his chair and blinking at him once. “Twelve men at a bare minimum? Jon, I don’t know much about ships, not as much as you anyways, but I do know that that has to be an exceptionally large ship for it to need twelve minimum. I know you like ships, but _how_ large did you make it?”

 

Jon paused for a few moments, almost looking embarrassed. He couldn’t help himself when Balon had told him it would be a good idea to get a bigger ship if he was willing to pay extra, he could barely help himself. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and sighed. “It… it can hold a crew of two hundred. Fairly comfortably.”

 

Ned was floored, really, he wasn’t sure what to say to that. No wonder Jon had waited till he was nearly seventeen years to finally take his commission. “What are you planning on doing with a ship that size?”

 

“We already have multiple trade agreements set up across the Narrow Sea, which is why I needed it finished over there, and with a ship this size, we can afford to rent cabins to passengers.”

 

And by that, Jon really meant, ‘There are multiple smuggling agreements I’m ready to fulfill, and people who need to get out of Westeros fast usually pay top bill to get gone quick.’

 

He wasn’t proud of himself… well, actually, he wasn’t upset with himself either. What’s a few unmarked crates of fruit and steel, and maybe even smuggling people out of the country if they need it? It’s just… helping out? Taxes in this country were already far too high, and Jon knows of more than a few slaves across the bay that would jump at the first offer to get themselves and their families out of Astapor or Slavers Bay as soon as they could. Jon wouldn’t even charge any of them if he could help them. The idea of slaves really made him sick to his stomach.

 

That’s the whole point of piracy, as he’s found out time and time again, going around the laws isn’t always bad, sometimes it’s just fighting for your right to live how you want to.

 

Ned didn’t fully seem to believe him, but he dropped it. “That’s still a hefty size, I hope you’re planning on building up a good crew.”

 

Jon didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sure I can think of a great many people who would be willing to crew a ship, if nothing, for a place to stay at night. A loyal crew is one who knows you’re giving them a home and place to stay.”

 

Ned nodded, a smile smile on his face. “Of course. So you plan to be gone much longer then?”

 

Jon felt a little guilty at that, not meeting his eyes again. “Father, I… I do not wish to be from my family for as long as I am, and I would love to be with you all more, but-”

 

“The sea calls to you.”

 

Jon sagged a little, relieved. “It does, loud and clear and when I am away I miss the sway of boat on water, and when I am there it is like it all speaks to me. I do not wish to be away from all of you so long, but open water is where I feel…” He trailed off, afraid to say the word in case his father took it as a rejection. Jon couldn’t handle it if Ned thought he was pushing him away. He looked down, unable to watch him at all, though he could see Ned coming around to the front of the desk, leaning back against it.

 

“It’s okay to say it. One day, I suspect that most of my children will call somewhere else home. Catelyn was not born here, yet she’s called this home for over fifteen years now. One day, I suspect most of you will find home somewhere else.”

 

Jon shook his head, a little frown on his face. “Sansa would never be able to find home anywhere but Winterfell. She’s like her mother like that.”

 

“And you are like yours.”

 

Jon looked up sharply. Ned _never_ spoke of Jon’s mother, and suddenly, it all made sense. The upset smiles on his face about speaking to Jon. Was he going to tell Jon about her?

 

“I am?” He could feel tears in his eyes, and had to hold himself back from crying, though as he blinked, they slipped out, and Ned’s face turned from grief to outright _pain_ , at causing his child this sorrow.

 

“Oh, Jon, I should have had this talk with you so long ago, and I am sorry that it waited till now.”

 

Jon nodded, barely able to speak, only listen while his father too a seat next to him on a chair, on eye level with him now. Jon reached up to brush away the tears, not letting any more come out.

 

“You are like your mother, Jon. Sometimes, I look at you, and for a moment, I feel I’m seeing her. She had your hair and your eyes. You don't look much like your father at all, to be honest. A blessing, that."

 

Jon froze at that, for a long long moment, and slowly lifted his head from staring at his hands, shock written plain on his face. “Are you… did you just… what?”

 

Ned looked down at his own lap, before meeting Ned’s eyes. “Jon, you’re not my son. You’re my sister’s son. Your mother was Lyanna Stark, and your father was Rhaegar Targaryen.”

 

It took Jon a few minutes to fully process that, but Ned game him the time, knowing it was a big shock. Finally, Jon looked back up at him, an almost petulant look on his face. “You’re the one who raised me, don’t foist responsibility off on them now, you’re the one I call Father.”

 

Ned felt for a second like he could breath again, pulling Jon out of his chair and into a hug that left the teen breathless.

 

When Ned finally pulled back, Jon fled back to his chair, a little embarrassed at being so emotional. He looked away from Ned, biting his lip in thought. “That’s why you could never speak of her. It makes sense.”

 

Ned nodded. “I couldn’t say anything, Jon. Robert wanted, and _still wants_ to kill you and every Targaryen out there. I’m taking a risk saying anything at all while he’s here, but I couldn’t let you wait until we could next see each other, it might be too far off.”

 

Jon nodded. “I understand… the last Targaryen, huh? I heard Vyserys was dead, the last time I heard his name. Killed by a Dothraki warlord.”

 

“You’re not the last, Jon. You have an aunt. I was hoping, that with a ship, and her in Astapor now, you could go and meet with her. You also have a great great uncle in the Night’s Watch.”

 

It took Jon a moment to get it, but when he did, he blinked a few times. “Daenerys Targaryen… is my aunt? Isn’t she the same age as I am?”

 

“Yes. Possibly closer to age with her than you are even to Robb.”

 

Yes… his aunt, who has recently taken over Meereen, and abolished slavery, from what he hears. “I… I think I could talk to her. I think she might be a formidable ally if I need it.”

 

Ned was a little worried about how thoughtful Jon had put that, but decided to let it go. He still felt that stomach dropping relief at Jon not pushing him away. He was glad he still had him as a son.

 

“You know, I’m not going to keep this a secret from her, if rumor gets around that I’m Rhaegar Targaryen’s son-”

 

“I’ll deal with that when I come to it.”

 

“Well, that’s good. Is there anything else you wanted to address before I might have to go?”

 

“...how do you feel about taking on Arya or Bran in a few years time? I’m sure a ship that big can hold them.”

 

Jon sighed, but didn’t say no.

 

***

 

When Jon finally got back to his ship, he never got the chance to tell them all about Daenerys before Sam was waylaying him to the side to talk about a supposedly important mission.

 

“Hardhome.”

 

“Where’s that?”

 

“It’s up Beyond, above the Wall. It’s possibly home to an army of over a hundred thousand Free Folk.”

 

Jon sat down in his chair at his own desk, looking floored. “Over a hundred thousand? Why do I need to know this?”

 

“Because they all want to be below the Wall. All of them.”

 

“What can we do? We’re just a small ship.”

 

“True, but I know you, Jon, you can build us an armada, and we can get them below.”

 

Jon knew it was the right thing to do, but he still had to ask. “What use is an army to us even? If I give them to Balon, he’ll just try to take over the North again.”

 

“Give them to your father, Jon, he’ll find them a home, and if the South gets fighty, they’ll be there to help back them down again. Having an army that size on our hands can only be good. Your father would never use them for a useless war.”

 

Jon shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. But he’s far too honorable of a man, I would need to convince him.”

**Author's Note:**

> littlesforfandom.tumblr.com


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